


Three Things

by Davechicken



Series: Kylux - Toppy/Dommy Kylo [7]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Asphyxiation, BDSM, First Time, M/M, Praise, Punishment, Sadism, bottom!Hux, top!Kylo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 13:06:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8145095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: When drunk, Hux admits he's worried by his celibacy. Kylo offers to assist.





	

General Hux does not – as a rule – allow himself to get intosi—insockit—inbeebri— _fuck it_ – **drunk**. Because it’s. Thing. You know. Thiiiiiiiiiing.

He’s fucking in CHARGE. IN. FUCKING. CHARGE. Of. _Evvvvvvvvvvvvvvvveryone_. And! What if there’s an emergency??? Or! Something?????

Yes, there’s off-duty time, but… but! Things happen. They don’t, like, _look_ at his schedule and _go wrong to order_ because that would be **helpful** and probably not actually a _going wrong_ so much as an exerchize orrrrr a drill. So he’s _sober_. For. Things. **Reasons.**

Except todayyyyyyyyyyyyyy. 

Todayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy. It’s. Anniversary. Thing. Starkiller. _Boom_. And he’s (don’t tell anyone) **_d e p r e s s e d._**

So he’s drunk. Because of it. You know. Drunk.

On his own. In – thingy – place. For hoffisers. He’s a hoffis. He’s _important not like you expected hah fuck you Dad I did make something of my—_

“Hux.”

That is _not his dad_. Not… Commandant. Voice familiar. Tall, tall, black and fuckpisswank it’s _Kylo Forcefucking Ren_.

Hahahaahahahaahhhhhhhhhhhha.

Fuck his fucking life fuck.

“Hux… how much have you had to drink?”

“…not… ‘nough.”

“You just said all that out loud.”

“Wha’?”

“Give me that bottle, I’m cutting you off.”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. No. Fuck you! Fuck you and—your… _fuck_.”

He has to close one eye to work out where the bottle is, reaching for it and falling out of his stool and into Kylo’s chest. He humphs into the black, trying to get upright.

“No more alcohol for you.”

“Fuckoff,” he grumbles, and then – for _absolutely no reason whatsoever except maybe he’s drunk a whole bottle of good brandy and then half a bottle of cheap shit and also it’s that **Day** – _he sniffles.

Kylo grabs him, hoists him over his shoulder, and carries him out of the door.

Hux hopes no one sees, and nearly throws up over the man’s back.

***

Okay, so that wasn’t his best moment, ever. He can realise that as his boots are pulled off. Kylo had tried to put him in his bed with them still on, but Hux had _standards_ , even if no fine motor skills right now.

So Kylo is – for some reason – pulling off his boots and tolerating the hand on his mask. 

“It will get easier,” the Knight tells him.

“Right. Sure.”

“It will.”

Hux does not believe it. He sways like an AT-AT in high winds, and allows Kylo to strip his feet bare. The shirt goes next, leaving him in the little vest, and that’s as far as he’s comfortable with going, clambering under the sheets, filled with shame.

He’s barely got settled when there’s hands moving his limbs around, pushing one wrist under his head and crossing a leg over him. Kylo’s putting him in the recovery position? He’s not even that drunk, and why does he even care?

“It’s not just the stupid Starkiller,” he blurts out. “It’s everything.”

“Everything?”

 _He was right_ , Hux thinks, bitterly. And oh, now his mind has started he can’t stop it. 

_This. Is why. He does not. Drink._

“You wouldn’t understand,” he mutters into his pillow.

“Perhaps I’d understand more than you’d think.”

Hux snorts. “You? You had everything handed to you, and look how you turned out. Me… I had… had to… _fight_ , and it’s not enough and…”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Get out.”

Kylo walks away, but he goes into the ‘fresher. He comes back with a glass of water (way too considerate) which he puts on the dresser beside the bed. Hux fumes and claws at the pillow under his nails.

He’s never – if he doesn’t – if – Ren is the only one even _remotely_ on his level and – his family would never do anything but mock him for his failures and the _Leader_ can’t know how weak he is and—

“It was… supposed to be my _legacy_. My… baby. I won’t… I won’t have any, so…”

“Won’t? Or can’t?”

Hux gulps. “I’m not interested in women to start off with, but even if I was, I’m…”

Hux feels the eyes bore through him, and a brush of a presence in his head. It’s unwelcome, unwarranted, and… kind of… needed. He doesn’t want to say it aloud, but he _does_ want Kylo to already know. 

General Hux is a fucking loser who threw his whole life into a project that went boom. All his love, all his time, all his attention, all his fucking _self_. And now he’s in his mid thirties, he has a tail of debris behind him the size of six planets, no one’s proud, and he’s all a-fucking-lone.

Yeah.

Great.

A hand squeezes his shoulder. “Your weapon worked. It was incredibly powerful. You… got to where you are on your own merits, and… you… should be…”

Fuck, Kylo is trying to give him a pep talk? Hux laughs in delirious confusion. “Proud? Yeah. Thanks for nothing, Ren. Get out of my head.”

Kylo looks wounded, but he nods. “I’ll put an alarm in the system. If you’re not up to dismiss it in the morning, it will send medical assistance.”

“I don’t need—”

“Sleep in that position. Drink plenty.”

Hux doesn’t know how to feel about being fussed over. He doesn’t remember it happening before, and he wants to tell him where to shove it. He doesn’t _need_ to be protected, or wrapped in blankets. He’s strong, and smart, and fierce, and… maybe… it isn’t _all_ bad.

He snorts into the pillow shortly after the Knight leaves. Snores until the alarm sounds, and then forces himself back to normal for the day ahead. 

***

It’s a few weeks later when Kylo Ren turns up at his door. The man has a small bag shouldered, and looks like he’s trying to hitch-hike, or something.

“What do you want, Ren?”

“A proposition,” Kylo says. “You… were distressed, that night.”

Which they’d tacitly agreed to never speak of again, right? Hux feels his lips curl from his teeth.

“I can’t bring back your Starkiller, but I could… help with the other problem.”

The other… what? His eyes go to the bag in alarm. What the fuck is Kylo thinking? Is that really his plan? “Do you often offer to deflower my staff, Ren?”

“No. Only you.”

Strange, but the way he says it sets Hux’s belly to confusion. And yes, maybe he had been feeling maudlin and depressed about dying alone amongst the wreckage of his broken weapons, but he hadn’t actually – well – when he’d let Kylo know he was worried, it hadn’t been an invitation… had it?

“Would you like me to leave?” Kylo asks. “I thought… it might be something you were interested in.”

Yes. No. Fuck. Maybe? Hux has always been somewhat intrigued, but he’s also devoted himself so utterly to his cause that…

“What’s in the bag?”

Oh, he’s doomed.

***

There is no way in hell that half of those things are even intended for sexual gratification, Hux decides. They look like torture implements, and he’s frustrated with his dick for getting interested at the thought of what they could be used for.

He’s half way between ‘of course I know what that weird bendy bit of metal with spikes is for, Ren, I’m just above using it’ and ‘help what the fuck are you here to kill me couldn’t you just have given me a drunken handjob if you pitied me?’ and he doesn’t know which side of the fence to come down on.

Kylo – for some reason – isn’t mocking him, or insulting him, or pressuring him. He’s patient as he explains what the things are for, and he puts them to one side with no attempt to use them on him. 

“Why can’t we – I mean, why don’t you just… have sex like… normal?”

“Because I find this more fun,” the Knight admits, “…and because I suspect you would, too.”

“Why?”

“Call it intuition. Also, you’re pretty much a self-punishing, auto-masochistic perfectionist with control issues.”

“Ren!”

“What? If you let me, I could make it all go away for an hour or two.”

“…and what the fuck would be in it for you?”

Kylo’s eyes glint. “Power.”

Fuck.

Hux already has none. He’s the idiotic virgin, and Kylo’s apparently some demented sex-creep. With whips and chains and ropes. “How… would this work?”

“You’d tell me what your limits were, and you’d agree to use a colour system for when things became close to too much. I’d ask you to pick out three things from the bag to use. And then I’d attempt to make both of us feel very, very good.”

“What if it doesn’t feel good?”

“That’s what the colour system is for. If it goes too far away from fun, we stop.”

“And… this is just… blowing off steam?”

“If that’s what you want from it, then yes.”

Hux isn’t sure he does want anything more. He doesn’t even know if this will work, but Kylo is being relatively (for him, anyway) calm and thoughtful, and it’s not like he can fuck anyone else in the Order, and he’s bottled it every time he thought about going on shore leave, so…

Why the fuck not. He can try it one time. See if he likes it.

Chains aside, Kylo seems to be about as considerate as a partner could be towards his absolute naïveté. His fingers slide across gleaming metals and soft leathers. He picks out three things, and then looks up.

“You’re sure?” Kylo asks, one last time.

“Yes.”

Holy shit. They’re going to do it.

***

The cuffs Kylo puts on his wrists are nothing like regulation. They’re soft, lined leather and they hitch his hands together, behind his back. His shirt is already off, but he’s still in his slacks for now. Kylo’s taking his time with him, making him both frustrated and eager in equal measure. His chest is pulled to attention under the pressure, as he sits with one leg tucked under him on the edge of the bed.

Kylo has the crop – toy two – in his hands, stroking it up and down, teasing him by refusing to let it touch.

“Tell me, General… is this what you would use, when you needed something to jerk it to? Being helpless and bound?”

Hux wants to scream that _of course not_ , but it would be a lie, and Kylo can see inside his head. So, instead, he glares. 

A swipe of the crop to one nipple – just the lightest of stings – makes him jolt upright. “No.”

“And do you regularly lie?”

“ _No_.”

Another swipe, to the other nipple. It sends brilliant, bright pain shocking through his system, and his teeth bite into his cheek until he can almost convince himself he’s gnawed a way right out of his face. 

“You’re going to need punishing for that,” Kylo tells him. “You’re not supposed to lie to the man who is about to give you a gift.”

“Well, if it was a lie, then I—”

Hux finds himself moved in one, swift gesture. One moment he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, the next he’s face-down into the mattress, knees over the edge, hands still tied up behind him. He wriggles and protests until the hilt of the crop pushes down into his spine, between his wrists.

“Don’t lie to me, Hux. Not when this is for you.”

“I’m…” _Fine. Fine. Fine._ “Sometimes,” he admits.

“Better. But you still need to be punished, don’t you?”

 _Yes, and I fantasised about that, too_. 

Hands unbuckle his pants, shoving them down to his knees. His boxers follow, and his dick is trapped under him as his ass is bared to the world, to the cold air of his room.

“You want the pain as much as the punishment. You need both, don’t you?” Kylo asks, the switch rubbing over his sensitive rump and _still not putting out_.

“How the fuck should I kn— AUGH!”

The smack probably isn’t even that _hard,_ but it is… it is a punishment, and it is a sting, and it is the principle of the thing. Kylo is _caning him_. And he is _so fucking hard_ that he can’t remember any of his solo sessions being like this at fucking all ever, ever, ever. 

Thin, slicing touches that feel like they should be splitting him open, flaying his ass to a bloody mess. They’re not, but it’s the _thought_ that they could, and **fuck** but doesn’t it get him right, right, _right there_. Kylo knew what he was talking about, after all. He really is a deviant little shit, and oh… the moan he can’t keep in is shameful and glorious in one.

“ _Hnnnngh, yes_.” It’s delayed, but it’s true.

“Better,” Kylo says.

And the praise – even one small, tiny thing – in amongst all the thuddythwackbites to his upper thighs is like the sun rising all at once and pouring heat and light into the world. Hux whimpers, feeling how the pattern of it varies, never letting him get too used to the rhythm, never truly sure what will come next. He’s drummed to rocking into the bed, his cock leaking in satisfaction, and then there’s one last – furious – whack.

Hux _screams_ in surprise, and melts deeper into the bed in submission. His mind is going – kind of – sort of _down_ is the only way to describe it. He’s more reaction than thought, and oh, what a reaction it is.

Fingers grab his hair. He’s not sure what’s going on other than his eyes and scalp are stinging, and he’s hoist up so high that he has to stamp his feet hard to balance out, his fingers curling through thin air. “Ren!”

“I’m not finished with you, yet,” Kylo purrs. 

The crop goes across his throat, and Hux pants above it, the thin swatch being the only thing keeping him up, other than his tensing thighs. “…yes,” he rasps.

The air starts to taste salty, beefy, almost, and his head is swimming by the time the crop falls, and he does, too. Oofing his head into the bed, surprised when a hand reaches between his thighs and finds his cock.

Which.

Is hard.

Hard, and someone is touching it. _Kylo_ is touching it. Not him. Stroking curiously up and down, and the knowledge that it’s _someone else_ makes him writhe in delicious agony, humping at the fingers.

“Oh, you greedy little thing. When did you even last come?”

“D-don’t… know.”

“No wonder you’re so uptight. You want that fucking out of you, don’t you?”

His eyes clench shut so hard he can see lights, and he screams _yes yes yes yes yes yes yes_ so loud inside his head that he is **sure** Kylo must hear it.

The hand scrunches down to his scrotum, and Hux _bites at the mattress_ in an attempt to keep the sounds inside. He’s _always_ been quiet when alone, because it’s a shameful, filthy thing to do, to beat yourself off. And because he never wanted anyone else to know he _needed_ things like this, and—just—he—

The hand goes, and Hux **yowls** in annoyance as he’s dropped down again. He’s barely got time to readjust before the cuff-chain between his wrists is used to hoist him up, and Kylo has the third toy in his hand.

“Beg nicely.”

“Fuck! Kylo… don’t make me…”

“ **I. Said. Beg.** ”

Hux does not want to. He does not want to. He wants to just get fucked, and fucked hard. He wants to scream out his satisfaction, and he wants to feel… almost… like he has no choice in this. He does not want to _admit he wants it_. But there’s the cold, wet sensation of the narrow toy pushing at his hole, then sliding down to nudge at his balls and massage between the two.

There’s a sudden flicker of switch, and then the little bullet starts to _vibrate_ , and Hux wants to fuck himself onto it, but he damn well _can’t_ because he’s hanging from his shoulders and wrists, bent over, legs spread and _everything hurts and nothing hurts and he wants more, so much more, and he’s grinding against the little toy like it’s the only thing in the universe worth knowing_.

“I can turn it off.”

“NO.”

Oh, no. Please, no. Not when he’s so close. Hux keens lowly, trying to wriggle his hips for more pressure, horrified when the buzzing toy leaves.

“Please,” he begs. “Kylo, _please_.”

“Please what?”

_Don’t make me say it, don’t make me say it, don’t—_

“ **Hux.** ”

Oh, shit. The tone goes through him like a saber through metal, and Hux nearly fucking comes right then. “ _Fuck me, Kylo. I’m begging you. Fuck me_.”

He will never, ever, ever live this down. Mutual itch-scratching is one thing. Even being tied up and tormented. But begging for his dick?

Kylo leans forwards, still holding Hux in the stress position, the buzzing sound gone. “I’m clean. Do you—?”

“I checked your bloody medical records two minutes after you got through the door, _so yes_ ,” Hux replies. Because there’s no way in hell he’d have let the man get him in a position to make him ill without pre-arranging precautions, was there?

Kylo snorts. “Smart boy.”

“I’m older than you, and would you j— _ooooohhhhhh_.”

A slick finger at his hole, and he should probably relax more, but he struggles to as it works its way inside. He tries to push onto it, and then pull away, and then push again until it pops inside. A slick little noise and a feeling of being… open and closed at once?

“You’re a tight one, aren’t you? Nice and ready for me.”

“Well, if you h-hadn’t noticed, this is kind of… n-n-new to mmmme.”

The finger keeps moving, and is joined by a second. Hux’s shoulders scream for mercy, and he tries to shift to give them some release. Kylo seems to notice he’s struggling and the pressure alleviates to just a firm stretch, his forehead in the mattress. He doesn’t thank him aloud, but he _does_ whisper another **please** as he rides those two – now three – fingers.

In, in, in. His hole is clearly made for it, just like he expected. He’s never played with his own ass beyond intense cleaning of it, and it’s… so fucking good. There’s soft, pleasurable feelings inside and he’s grateful for Kylo being delicate about this.

Right up until there’s a dick against his ass, and then a dick _moving into his ass_ , and then the little toy! Somehow, Kylo’s buddy-strapped it to his cock, and when he pushes in, it slides against his entrance outside, humming happily away. The vibrations tingle all the way up his spine, in perfect counterpoint to the thick, solid penetration.

Probably not what he should do on his first attempt, but Hux is _loving it_.

“ _Thank you_ ,” he bubbles out, as he’s screwed hard and slow.

“That good?”

“ _Soooo_ good,” Hux agrees, even if he’s ashamed (a little) to admit it. Kylo’s pressing all his buttons, so it’s only fair he gives him a good review and nice feedback. “Oh, so good.” Even if it’s not very eloquent.

“You little cumslut,” Kylo crows. “Bet you want it harder, don’t you?”

Yes, he does. Hux nods, his smile spreading.

“You like a dick up in you? You like feeling stuffed?”

“Like you might come and it hit my throat? _Fuck yes_ ,” Hux agrees. “ **Please** , for the Force… _fuck me_?”

Kylo complies, then, letting go of his wrists in favour of holding his hips. Hux turns his head and rides the wave of the Knight’s passion, taking every slick, sure thud into him. Against his balls, against his ass, against his thighs. They sting from before, and he’s in _heaven_. The pain just makes the pleasure sharper, and he calls out in wordless, utterly grateful bliss.

 **Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.** Sliding against the walls he tenses, pressing against some weird little trigger, causing his knees to buckle.

“Going to… Kylo… I, I need to…”

A hand grabs his dick and hurtles over it so harshly he’s almost convinced he’s been flayed alive, and then he’s screeching out his satisfaction as he spurts all over the bed, bouncing around on the wave of contentment. His climax sort of spreads out from his ass through his balls and his dick and his spine and he’s just… so fucking… blinded by it and drowned in it and then there’s a strange, gushing feeling and the sound of Kylo losing _his_ control.

Oh. _YES_. The Knight, coming in him. Enjoying him just as much, and that… is a power, too. Hux whimpers and tries to tighten around him. Tries to give him the best – very best – thing to come inside of, and he rumbles a hopeful note of query in lieu of words.

Time goes kind of skewy, then, and he’s left purring and sticky as Kylo pants above him. The sound is harsh, but he – he did that. He made Kylo want that enough. Right? He’s… he’s… desirable enough, right?

“You were so good,” comes a whisper by his ear.

 _I was_?

The dick inside slips out, and then a hand wipes over his thighs, stroking gently into the spanked-sore skin. He feels the cuffs come off, and then he’s momentarily panicking. 

Was he good? Was he enough?

The sudden fear seems baseless, and impossible to ignore. He shakes as he’s turned around, pulled into Kylo’s chest. His hands don’t operate yet, but Kylo smothers him in hugs, touching his hair, his face, his neck, his arms. 

“You were so very, very good, Hux.”

He whimpers, and pushes under his chin. Kylo wouldn’t say it if he didn’t mean it, would he? Dark Siders don’t go around saying nice things for… no reason? 

Avocal, he jams his eyes closed, nods. 

“Don’t worry. I have you. You can come back down slowly. You’re safe, and I have you.”

“…good?”

“Yes, Hux.”

No, no… he’s not getting it. “Good… for you?”

“Wonderful for me,” Kylo corrects him, and kisses the side of his mouth.

Another first, Hux thinks, not working to keep his mental shield up just now.

“I can help with those as well, if you’d like?” the Knight offers.

 _Oh_. Kisses. Yes! Hux leans his face towards him, begging with just his posture. _Please_.

Maybe he’s not as useless and broken as he thought he was. 

Kylo’s kisses are soft, now. Tiny snips of bites, but mostly a flicker of tongue and a sucking of lips. Hux drifts dreamily in his arms.

 _Again_?

“Later, but yes,” Kylo agrees. “ **Definitely** again.”

But kisses first.


End file.
